Page 89 of Sword & Shadow
The focus came, the heat on his skin coating him, tight like leather armor. The vision of the resources slowed, and the buzzing became a whisper. He heard the call, the gentle prodding on his soul, claiming him like a second self, a half he hadn’t known was missing.
And he heeded, reaching internally for the one source that was closest to him.
“The resources have spoken,” Auden said from beyond Deckard’s concentrated thoughts. It startled him enough to remind him of the world beyond, of reality.
His eyes flew open, finding his one hand still tight on Evylin while he held the other raised, a blaze of light shining brightly before him.
Deckard blinked away the lingering lure of his imagination. The whisper was gone, leaving the world in an abrupt silence. His vision shifted as he stared at his hand. He turned the palm to face him, and the light moved with it.
A flare of white-yellow Day lit the camp as though the sun shone down on them all.
The Calder siblings exchanged a look.
“We have another Existential Mage,” Auden said with awe.
“Ah, well.” Ilain sighed good-naturedly. “I never was much of a teacher anyway.”
Deckard frowned, curling his fingers into a fist. The light extinguished within his grasp. The revelation felt anti-climactic and empty. A small part of him had held out hope that they were wrong, that he was no Mage. Without any proof of his abilities, he could deny it, pretending the Relicscouldmake mistakes.
This put an end to every doubt in his mind.
He was an Existential Mage. And he’d liked it. The warmth and clarity. The release of power. The connection and control. He finally understood what made Auden and Ilain so enthusiastic about their magic. He felt an inexplicable desire to summon forth that flare of light again, just so he could feel that burgeoning, brilliant energy once more.
Deckard’s gaze flickered past the Calders, past Thom, Rafferty, and Ethenn, past the trees, and to the shadow hovering in the darkness. This revelation came with another horrifying truth.
Yes, he was an Existential Mage. He felt it with more confidence than anything in his life. Because he knew now thathe’dbeen the one to summon Hewitt’s ghost. Day magic represented life, and Night, as its mirror, represented death.
No matter Ilain’s protestations earlier, Deckard knew the truth.
He was a Night Mage, burdened with unholy power.
Part II: Writ of Attachment
The great consecration of their union is an unmatched drawing together of magic.
The Warrior feels it first, more in tune with their flesh as a natural course of their gifting.
Yet, the Mage responds, offering a grander display of power and passion to the Bond.
Excerpt fromAttachments of the Soul,
author unknown
Cold is the Night, its darkness frenzied with ferity. Marrow-deep inquietude unsettles even the holiest of souls. We should extirpate them, every last demon, lest they drag us all to hell in their monstrous grasp.
Excerpt from a letter penned by Alphias Stenn, Aterian in the Order of the Day, to his fellow Mage, Restras Lew, Attendant in the Order of the Age, dated 12th of Terraen, 1125, shortly before his death at the hands of Obrus Eegon, ArchMage in the Order of the Night, and Father of the Eight, the first Mage King of Auld
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dropping under the numerous branches of a hawthorn, Thom glanced at Ilain. “Thanks for getting me off the second shift,” he said half-heartedly. “I’m indebted to you.”
Ilain flicked her fingers, sending up small spurts of flame with a bored flare. “Any time.”
After dinner and the show (the testing of Deckard’s classification), Deckard had pulled Thom and Ethenn aside, informing them of the switch in watch pairings. He said it was because, in thinking it over, it made more sense for Ethenn to have the later shift with his keen hunter’s eyesight. But the true reason was evident to both soldiers: Ilain had made a request.
Thom glanced over his shoulder, catching as Ethenn settled uncomfortably on the ground, preparing for sleep. “I take it the kid isn’t getting the idea?” he said, turning back to Ilain. She’d selected their spot on the rise of a hill. It was farther away from the camp than usual, but the vantage was better.
Unemotionally, Ilain continued to play with Fire magic. “He all but told me he loves me.”
